


Exalted Fellblood

by Private_Gallery



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening, fire emblem awakening
Genre: F/M, Fire Emblem - Freeform, Fire Emblem Awakening - Freeform, Fire Emblem: Awakening Spoilers, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, but with fluff, the slowest of burns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-08 08:23:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12250623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Private_Gallery/pseuds/Private_Gallery
Summary: "This is not your fault. Promise me you'll escape from this place. Please...go..."It is a phrase attached to a memory that isn't hers where all others have ceased to exist, haunting Robin every time she closes her eyes and as she fights side by side with the victim of her nightmare.Yet she cannot stop herself from growing closer to the hero that saved her from an empty field and a past covered in darkness.





	1. Invisible Ties on the Verge of History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She had woken up for the first time in her life it seemed, which she knew couldn't be true, but as far as her memory was concerned in its seemingly nonexistent form, today truly was the first day of her life.

_“This isn’t over! Damn you both!”_

Only through magic could darkness be so vibrant. A cacophony of purple and white energy brought into being by sheer will. It is unknown by scholars if wielding darkness requires malicious intent, unfortunate past experiences, or a soul that harbors a black stain; but it was always apparent among those who possessed the aptitude for magic which of them preferred those born from darkness.

 _“Are you alright?_ ”

Additionally, it was unknown why some humans and creatures alike were more susceptible to darkness. Was it an inherent weakness—that some were more resistant, filled with more light—or could it be due to a potential allowing them to harness such darkness? Very few who proved to be susceptible to such intoxicating darkness lived long enough to determine what about them had proven to cause such weakness. Or they simply did not care to know now that they had accepted such blackened strength.

_“That’s the end of him. Thanks to you, we carried the day.”_

Though the nature of darkness and a person’s ability to either be weak to or house it within them and will it into being is often pondered; it is always agreed upon which events in history had secured darkness being brought into existence, where it is drawn from by those that wield it…

 _“We can rest easy now. At long last._ ”

And those that are killed by it.

_“What’s wrong? Hey—! Hey, hang on—?!”_

Grima.

“ _This is not your-your fault. Promise me…you’ll escape from this place. Please…go…”_

* * *

 

A soft breeze and sunlight gently warming her skin were the first things she was aware of as the darkness slowly seeped away from her mind. It leisurely withdrew from her, though, clinging greedily to all that it had covered and absconded with it while begrudgingly fading back to where it had come from.

As she was left with nothing, she started to become more aware of her surroundings, feeling the tickling annoyance of grass brushing across her skin, hearing the rustle of the leaves that rattled in the comforting wind. She knew of these things, yet she couldn’t conjure an image of them in her mind. It was nothing but black where she went to recall what all of these things were.

“Chrom, we have to do _some_ thing,” came a feminine candy-like voice, concern laced in the owner’s words.

“Well, what do you propose we do?” The second voice was much more masculine, sure of itself despite the question.

“Um-uhh. I don’t know.”

The sun was now beginning to glare even through closed eyes. Wearily, she opened them, the fogginess of her vision dissipating, revealing two figures towering over her. The young girl on her right let out a gasp and leaned back, her sandy blond hair falling in front of her eyes. The second figure was a man with deep blue hair that starkly contrasted the white of the cloak he wore on her left.

“I see you are awake now,” the man said calmly.

“Hey there,” the girl piped in.

“There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know,” the man added with a gentle smile. “Here, give me your hand.”

As she accepted his offer for help, she couldn’t help but notice the strange brand on her hand. Vibrant purple against her pale skin gleaming at her aching body was brought to her feet by the tame strength of the helpful gentleman before her, his stormy blue eyes never leaving hers.

Uneasy from the closeness of the strangers and the way they were watching her, she took a few steps back, casting her eyes away from the two who had woken her and the other man that stood diligently behind them.

“You all right?” The man asked, frowning at her shirking away from them.

“I-I think so,” she said, managing to find her voice. “Thank you… Chrom.” His name was just there on her lips before she could even stop herself. How did she know it was his name?

“Ah, then you know who I am?”

“N-no, actually. I just…” she frowned, shaking her head lightly. “It’s strange... Your name, I just…knew it…”

Chrom and the girl shared puzzled expression, and the man behind them only frowned, his lips pressing into a thin line. Even from a distance, she could see his hand tighten on his weapon. _An iron sword; the damage inflicted is dependent upon the strength of the wielder_ , though she had no recollection of ever seeing one before.

“…Hmm, how curious,” Chrom hummed. “Tell me, what’s your name? What brings you here?”

There was nothing but darkness where memory should have been as she searched for an answer. “My name is… It’s…hmm…” she closed her eyes and concentrated, willing her name to surface; but she was left with nothing, shaking her head once more in defeat. “I-I don’t know.”

“You don’t know your own name?’ Chrom asked her, shock punctuating his words.

“No…” she answered solemnly, finding it difficult to meet any of their gazes. “I’m not sure if…” her eyes darted around her as she finally took in her surroundings and found nothing familiar in the landscape. “I’m sorry, but where am I, exactly.”

“Hey, I’ve heard of this!” the girl in the bright yellow dress interrupted. “It’s called amnesia!”

 _The loss of one’s memories_ , she could define. Was that truly what was happening to her now? It would explain the absence of…everything.

“It’s called a load of pegasus dung,” the man from behind them growled. His gaze had never moved from her, nor did his hand from his sword.

The sting in his words would have hurt more if she hadn’t been trying to conjure up an image in vain of _a horse with wings commonly used as mounts in armies; excellent movement but weak to ranged attacks_. The bite of his words did not elude her, however, and the feeling of his scrutiny being undeserved still blossomed.

“We’re to believe you remember milord’s name, but not your own?”

“B-but it’s the truth!” she swore, her voice pleading for at least one of them to believe her.

Chrom turned to his comrade. “What if it _is_ true Frederick?” he asked, receiving a scoff from the older man. “We can’t just leave her here, alone and confused. What sort of Shepherds would we be then?”

“Just the same, milord,” Frederick responded, “I must emphasize caution. ‘Twould not do to let a wolf into her flock.”

“Right then—we’ll take her back to town and sort this out there.”

Her focus flickered between Frederick and Chrom, apprehension and unease flooding her. “Wait…do I have a say in any of this?” she asked taking a step back from them. Chrom and the girl seemed friendly enough, but she didn’t trust Frederick. She couldn’t even remember having ever trusted anyone.

“Peace, friend—I promise we’ll hear all you have to say back in town,” Chrom said, trying to reassure her with a smile. “Now come with us.”

 _An order_ , she realized, and from the way Frederick was watching, she knew that it wasn’t one that could be refused. Instead, she dropped her head in a resigned nod, following behind Chrom and the other girl, who offered her a sympathetic smile. Unsurprisingly, Frederick followed closely behind her, his hand remaining on the hilt of his sword.

Silence was the only thing that accompanied the group as they followed the well-worn path that lead to the town Chrom had mentioned; and although it was difficult, she forced herself to concentrate inwardly, searching the darkness of her mind, searching for any answers as to what was happening, rather than focusing on the swordsman behind her, and the one that lead her on towards uncertainty.

Twenty minutes ago, she had woken up for the first time in her life it seemed, which she knew couldn’t be true, but as far as her memory was concerned in its seemingly nonexistent form, today truly was the first day of her life. The crippling realization that she was missing everything about her and was heading towards a future she didn’t have the ability to comprehend was enough to stop in her tracks.

“What are you doing?” Frederick growled from behind her, loud enough to draw Chrom and the other girl’s attention. “Keep moving.”

She distinctly heard a sword being partially unsheathed. “What will you do with me?” Her question was aimed at Chrom. “Am I to be your prisoner?” she added, casting a nervous glance at Frederick who looked poised to strike at a moment’s notice.

Chrom chuckled at the mere suggestion, though from where she was standing, she didn’t find it funny. “You’ll be free to go once we establish you’re no enemy of Ylisse.”

“Ylisse,” she echoed thoughtfully, but as with the other times she tried to recall something, there was nothing. “Is that where we are?”

 “You’ve never heard of the halidom?” Frederick questioned. Crossing her arms, she made herself look smaller as she found the ground much more interesting than any of the people around her. Frederick laughed forcefully, “Someone pay this actress. She plays quite the fool. The furrowed brow is especially convincing…”

“Frederick, please,” Chrom silenced him. “This land is known as the Halidom of Ylisse,” he offered as an explanation. “Our ruler, Emmeryn, is called the exalt.”

 _Exalt_ , that term was familiar to her. _Those of the bloodline that formed an ancient pact with Naga the Divine Dragon_.

“I suppose proper introductions are in order…” Chrom continued. “My name is Chrom—but then, you already knew that.” He then turned to the sandy-haired girl beside him. “The delicate one here is my little sister, Lissa.”

“I am not delicate!” Lissa protested, shoving her older brother. “Ignore my brother, please. He can be a bit thick sometimes.” A large smile spread across her face, “But you’re lucky the Shepherds found you. Brigands would have been a rude awakening!”

She frowned. She knew what shepherds were, but these people didn’t exactly fit the definition. “Shepherds?” she echoed. “You tend sheep? In full armor…?

Chrom didn’t bother stifling his soft laughter nor dampening his smile. “It’s a dangerous job. Just ask Frederick the Wary here,” he said, nodding to the other man.

“A title I shall wear with pride, milord,” Frederick said, finally sheathing his sword completely. “Gods forbid one of us keeps an appropriate level of caution.” His threatening demeanor towards her lessened only slightly. “I have every wish to trust you, stranger, but my station mandates otherwise.”

 _A knight_ , she recognized. _Strong with most weaponry, vulnerable to crushing._ “I-I understand, sir. I suppose that I would do the same if our roles were reversed,” she admitted, as much as she disliked being on the receiving end.

“Shall we continue then?” Chrom asked.

But she was not paying attention. A flock of birds had startled from a nearby tree, launching themselves skyward and catching her attention.

_Strong fingers wrapped around her wrist painfully as she was pulled behind a woman with the lightest shade of hair she had ever seen, white like snow, the same as her own. Her chest hurt and her lungs struggled to take in enough air as she did her best to keep up, taking three steps for every one that the woman in front of her took. Every now and then, she would lose her footing, getting all but dragged by the woman that was spiriting her down a drably decorated hallway sporting dark reds and dimly lighting._

_Suddenly they were stopping, and she collided with the back of the woman that had been forcing her to run. Peaking from behind the woman’s black and purple coat, she could see several men in suits of armor brandishing sharp weapons in front of her. She clutched tightly to the woman in front of her, pressing tightly into the tough material of the coat._

_“When I tell you to run,” the woman whispered, “you run, and you don’t stop, do you understand?”_

_Her grip on the woman’s cloak tightened as she felt herself shake her head no. She didn’t want to leave her behind. She was scared and she didn’t want to be alone._

_“Do you understand?” the woman asked again, her voice much harsher, more desperate and pleading._

_“Yes, Mother,” she heard herself say, voice wavering._

_“Then run!” her mother shouted, shoving her towards the corridor on their right. “Run, Robin!” she cried once more as she rushed towards the men that had found them, blade in hand and magic surging on her fingertips. “Don’t stop running!”_

_Her mother’s voice followed her through the corridor as she did as she was told, and left her mother behind._

“Miss?” Chrom asked, drawing her from a single memory she had spontaneously recalled.

“Robin,” she corrected him. “That’s…that’s my name.” Robin could then feel the flush of embarrassment burn her cheeks at the way Chrom was watching her with a mixture of curiosity and concern. “I just…it suddenly just came to me.”

“Robin? Is that foreign?” he mused gently. “Ah well…I suppose that’s one mystery solved, though. We can discuss the rest in town. We’re almost there, and once we—”

“Chrom, look!” Lissa shouted. “The town!” From their place from a nearby hill, the town could just barely be made out, but it wasn’t difficult to see the smoke billowing above its silhouette.

“Damn it!” Chrom swore. “The town is ablaze. Those blasted brigands no doubt…” He hastily drew his sword from its sheath. “Frederick, Lissa! Quickly!”

“What about her?” Frederick asked.

“Unless she’s on fire as well, it can wait!” Chrom snapped urgently.

“Aptly put, milord.”

“Let’s go already!” Lissa shouted.

Chrom nodded in agreement once before racing for the town, Lissa and Frederick following closely behind him.

“But what about—” Robin stopped herself. They were already gone, and for the second time in her life, she was left alone.

* * *

 

“Chrom, we have to stop them!” Lissa whispered harshly.

“Don’t worry—after today, these bandits won’t be bothering anyone ever again…” Chrom offered his sister a reassuring grin before he turned to move out of the alley and into the open.

“Wait!” Robin hissed, making it just in time to catch Chrom’s arm, hauling him back away from the courtyard before anyone could see him.

“Robin! You followed us! Why?” Chrom asked, shocked by her sudden appearance.

“I…I’m not certain myself,” Robin stammered, intimately aware of Frederick’s drawn sword. “But I can help—you’ll need my help.”

“And what aid can a so-called amnesiac offer?” Frederick growled.

Robin frowned at him her nervousness forgotten in order to protect them. “The bandits are disorganized which is going to be to our advantage,” she started. “Most them wield swords, but there are two axmen, and a sorcerer with them. The leader of this group is in front of the church where he’s had his men put all the women.”

Chrom started at her, “How do you—”

“Your lance from atop your mount will serve you better against the swordsmen,” she continued before finally turning to Chrom. “If you divide yourselves into two teams and use the stalls in the courtyard to your advantage, you can take out most of them before they can organize an effective counterstrike against you.”

“How could you possibly know all that?” Chrom asked her

“It…it’s strange. I can just see it,” her confidence wavered slightly as she realized how crazy it must sound.

“See what?”

“The enemy’s strength, their weaponry, weaknesses, the most probable flow of battle…” Robin trailed off. “I must have studied this somewhere.”

“So, you’re saying you can size up the enemy at a glance?”

Robin nodded. “Yeah… it would seem so. And that’s not all. I know my way around a fight too. If you’ll have me.”

Chrom considered it. “Alright. There’s strength in numbers after all, and we could use that tactical mind of yours.”

“Milord,” Frederick hissed, “are you sure that’s wise?”

“She hasn’t proven herself to be an enemy yet,” Chrom countered, “and her plan is sound.”

“It would only take a moment for her to stab us in the back.”

Chrom frowned at Frederick, before turning to Robin. “Why should we split up?”

“We need to take out the leader as quickly as possible,” she began without hesitation. “It will prevent the enemy a chance at organizing a strike against us and it may also cause the remaining bandits to disband. However, we also need someone to make their way along the outer edge of the courtyard to draw the bandits that are by the houses away from the townspeople and towards us until the leader has been taking care of.”

“Well?” Chrom asked Frederick, smug over his triumph with Robin’s explanation. “Can you come up with anything better?” The knight merely glared at his charge. “Then we’ll go with her plan. Frederick, you and Lissa will skirt the outer edge of the courtyard. Robin and I will charge towards the church.”

“And when she turns on you?” Frederick growled.

“ _If_ it comes to that, I’ll cut her down myself,” Chrom countered. “Now get in position.”

“Yes, milord,” he said defeatedly, quickly mounting his horse an extending a hand to Lissa, helping her into the spot behind him in the saddle. “Do try to exercise some caution.”

Chrom gave his knight a somber nod before turning to Robin. “Ready?”

“Yes,” Robin answered, drawing the sword from its sheath that was obscured by her black and purple coat. “On your signal, Chrom.”

“Let’s go then!” Chrom said encouragingly before he turned and raced into the courtyard.

They were able to make it to the first group of bandits and dispatch them before an alarm went out and all the others were aware of their presence. Chrom had been able to take one out from behind with Robin rushing the second, catching him as he turned on Chrom in surprise with his comrade’s demise. Together, with Robin striking and catching the bandits blade and Chrom delivering the final blow, they were able to take care of the third bandit.

Their next encounter with bandits was a little trickier. An axman went for Chrom as a nearby swordsman began to approach. Before he could make it to Chrom, however, Robin intercepted him, placing herself between the bandit and Chrom. She caught his blade on her bronze sword, struggling to maintain her grip as the vibrations from the clash of blades sent reverberating numbness to her hands. Wincing as the iron of the enemy’s blade took a chunk out of her own sword, she slightly shifted her stance and with a flick of her wrist, she was able to deflect the blow before striking the man down. With a breathy “Thanks,” from Chrom, they continued on.

As they drew closer to the church, they began to encounter more enemies, and soon Chrom and Robin were no longer able to fight side by side, separating to take on all comers while remaining close enough to aid one another should the other need it. It was as she was about to catch an axe with her sword that she noticed Chrom had failed to see the mage on his right preparing a spell. Quickly dodging the blow from her foe by launching herself backward, Robin instinctively reached for a power buried deep within her, momentarily forgotten, and directed it at the sorcerer with her free hand.

Symbols that aided in bringing magic forth similar to the ones in the pages of the leather-bound book secured on her belt appeared and lightning charged through the air towards the bandit sorcerer. The fatal blow of electric energy launched the mage backward in a shower of sparks, startling Chrom and draining Robin far more than she was expecting. She was only just able to deflect the next blow from the axman she was still engaged with. She could not, however, avoid his cheap shot with an elbow that collided with her face, splitting her lip wide open as she stumbled backward.

Chrom was there, however, impaling her foe on his sword before knocking him to the ground. “Are you all right, Robin?” he asked, his words strained from the effort of battle.

“I’m fine, Chrom,” Robin assured him, her voice much more breathless and strained than his. “Don’t worry about me. We need to keep moving.”

“Just… don’t rush into danger, okay?” he said, concern etched in his already exhausted features.

Robin couldn’t help but smirk, “Who saved whom first?”

“I think we’re even now,” Chrom chuckled before turning to lead the way once more towards the church.

* * *

 

“Milord,” Frederick called as he rode up. Some grime from battle clung to his armor, but both he and Lissa looked unharmed from the fighting. “The remaining bandits are fleeing to the east. It seems our forgetful tactician was right about eliminating their leader.”

“That almost sounds like an apology, Frederick,” Chrom teased

“She still cannot be trusted, milord,” he said, dismounting his horse before helping Lissa down. “However, there is no denying that her strategy worked no matter how surprising it might be.”

“Seems to be quite a few of those surprises today,” Chrom said thoughtfully, his gaze causing Robin to look away in embarrassment. “You can wield magic as well?”

“Um…I guess I can,” she offered meekly.

“Wait!” Chrom said, taken aback. “What do you mean you _guess_? Didn’t you know you could use it before attacking an enemy next to me.”

“I was able to control it,” Robin said.

“I _guess_ I should have stayed a few steps behind you during the battle then,” Chrom replied playfully.

“And it looks like you did,” Lissa chastised, sidling up to Robin and scrutinizing the small cut on her lip. “Honestly, Chrom, it’s bad enough when your recklessness gets you hurt. Now you’re getting others hurt because of you.”

Robin gave Lissa a nervous half-smile, avoiding using the side that was split open. “I-it’s nothing, Lissa. I’m alright.”

“It won’t be nothing if it scars,” she argued. “Hold still for me.” And green healing magic was suddenly tracing itself around Lissa’s fingertips before Robin could protest further. With a surge warmth filled energy, the pain from her lip dissipated as her _wound_ was healed.

“Thank you,” Robin said, “but you shouldn’t have wasted your magic on me.”

“It wasn’t a waste,” Lissa smiled. “And it’s us and the town that should be thanking you. I mean, holy wow, Robin. You were incredible! Swords, sorcery, _and_ tactics! Is there anything you can’t do?”

 _Remember anything other than my name,_ she thought ruefully, although Robin knew that Lissa meant it as a compliment. She was unable to prevent herself from thinking back to everything that was missing, the void that took shelter where her memories should be. She could only hope that the others couldn’t see where her thoughts dwelled.

“You’re certainly no helpless victim, that much is for sure,” Chrom commented.

“Indeed. Perhaps you might even be capable of an explanation for how you came here,” Frederick said coldly.

Robin couldn’t help but flinch at his comment. “I…I understand your skepticism, Sir Frederick. And I cannot explain why only certain things have come back to me. But please believe me. I have shared all that I know.”

Frederick looked as though he had some cold remark to add, but Chrom interrupted him.  “You fought to save Ylissean lives,” he said. “My heart says that’s enough.”

“And what of your mind, milord?” Frederick questioned. “Will you not heed its counsel as well?”

“Frederick, the Shepherds could use someone with Robin’s talents,” Chrom said. “We’ve brigands and unruly neighbors, all looking to bloody our soil. Would you really have us lose such an able tactician?” When Frederick failed to answer him, Chrom turned to Robin. “Besides, I believe her story, odd as it might be.”

Robin could feel herself blushing under his gaze. “Th-thank you, Chrom.”

“So how about it?” he asked with a smile. “Will you join us, Robin?”

Though she wasn’t sure what would await her if she accepted, what else could she do? With no memories and no one else besides these three people that all waited expectantly for her answer, it seemed as though it was her only option. Yet, somehow, she knew that these were good people, that they could be trusted; and with nothing else to go on, it was good enough for her.

Robin returned Chrom’s smile with a smaller version of her own. “I would be honored.”

With formalities attended to, the Shepherds made their way to the courtyard to begin their inspection of the town and its residents. The townspeople that had fearful for their lives were slowly starting to trickle out of the places they had holed themselves up into when hiding from the bandits. Soft murmurings of relief and praise to the Gods and the Shepherds started flooding the area as people began to douse the fires and take account of all that the bandits had damaged with their ransacking.

Some things, like overturned stalls in the market and objects that had been tossed aside, would be easy enough to right; but there were some things that would require a bit more time to fix. The buildings that had been exposed to fire or had suffered a nearby chair or barrel being thrown through the windows would take some time to repair. It was only because of the timely arrival of the Shepherds—as the townspeople were quick to express—that no lives were lost and nothing required rebuilding.

As the adrenaline from battle began to ease out of her veins, Robin became increasingly aware of just how trying the battle had been. She didn’t know if it was from her use of magic that had been so draining for her, or the exertion itself, but she found herself quickly sitting down on the edge of a half-wall that spanned the length of the water surrounding the courtyard.

This movement did not go unnoticed. “Robin, are you alright?” Chrom asked, alarm tinging his words as he reached out to steady her.

“Y-yeah,” Robin answered quickly. “Just a little lightheaded.”

The concern on his face didn’t vanish as he nodded in understanding. “It must have been from the quick-casting you used on the other sorcerer.”

Robin frowned at him. “Quick-casting?” The term sounded familiar, but the knowledge was just out of reach.

“Yeah, silly,” Lissa piped in. “It’s when you cast magic without the help of a reference tome. You know, like the one you have on your belt?”

“O-oh...” Robin said before frowning. “But you used magic without one.”

Lissa laughed musically. “I’m not _that_ strong, Robin. I pulled from the magic already stored in my staff.”

“I see,” Robin hummed thoughtfully. It was slowly starting to come back to her. _Four types of magic: fire, wind, thunder, and darkness. Four types of ranking: base element, el-, arc-, and rare forms that only masters could wield._

“Why don’t you two rest here while Frederick and I make sure that everyone is all right?” Chrom offered, drawing Robin from her recollection. Lissa looked like she was going to argue, but Chrom cut her off by glaring at her before motioning subtly towards Robin. “It’ll give you two a chance to gather your strength before we leave for the capitol.”

The realization that the others would be postponing their departure because of her spurred Robin to hastily stand. “No, I’m fine. We can—”

But her body was not agreeing with her protest, and only because of Chrom catching her by her elbows to hold her up did she manage not to collide with the ground. “You’re fine, huh?” he asked her, guiding her back down.

Robin’s cheeks burned from having to be helped by Chrom twice now with second time requiring him to be so close to her. “Sorry…” she said sheepishly.

“Don’t worry, Robin,” Lissa piped in, taking a seat next to her. “We all know how difficult it can be to keep my brother in check.”

“Thank you for that,” Chrom said with a roll of his eyes, though he still regarded Robin with concern.

“Besides, we should take this break while we can,” she continued, ignoring her brother. “If Frederick had his way we’d never get a chance to rest. He’d have us all marching in our sleep.”

“It would afford you the opportunity to build character, milady,” Frederick said with a small, polite smile.

“If by build character you mean ‘slowly grow to hate you,’ then you are correct,” Lissa teased back.

Chrom chuckled fondly at his younger sister’s antics. “Come, Frederick, we should see to the townspeople and make sure that there aren’t any bandits remaining.”

“Of course, milord.”

“Try not to break anything, Chrom!” Lissa called out to him playfully as the two men began to make their way towards the small crowd of people that had formed.

As they walked away, Robin was able to just barely make out what Frederick asked Chrom in an aside not meant for either her or Lissa to hear. “Did you notice, milord? The brigands spoke with a Plegian accent.” Chrom didn’t say anything, but Robin caught the subtle nod he used to answer the knight.

Robin frowned. “Lissa?” she asked, getting the younger’s attention once Chrom and Frederick were indistinguishable from the rest of the crowd. “What’s _Plegian_?”

The young girl’s expression immediately darkened, and Robin almost regretted asking the question. However, Lissa quickly caught herself and smiled as best she could given the topic. Robin couldn’t tell if her pretense was more for her sake or Lissa’s own benefit.

“Plegia is Ylisse’s westerly neighbor,” she said. “My brother and Frederick think that they’ve been sending small bands like the one we just stopped in the hopes of starting a war.”

Robin hummed solemnly as she mulled over the new information.

Lissa shook her head in frustration, her smile and any pretense of positivity abandoned for anger. “And it’s the poor townsfolk who suffer! Totally innocent, and totally helpless…”

“At least they have the Shepherds looking out for them,” Robin said, attempting to comfort her.

“I know…” Lissa looked up from the cobblestone ground she had found terribly interesting earlier and turned her gaze to Robin. “The tension between Ylisse and Plegia is the reason why Frederick is treating you so harshly. He isn’t usually so mean.”

“It’s alright, Lissa,” Robin said before she could apologize for Frederick on his behalf. “I understand now.”

But Lissa wasn’t finished. “Your robes. They look similar to the ones Plegian dark mages wear. I think that’s why Frederick is being more wary than usual.”

Robin looked down at the black and purple coat with gold accents she was wearing. “It was my mothers,” she said almost instinctively, frowning after the words had left her mouth. The one memory she had of her mother and her name had been a blurry flash at best, yet somehow, she just knew it was the same coat. It was curious, to say the least.

“You remember that?” Lissa asked.

Robin quickly averted her gaze, uneasy by the way Lissa was looking so expectantly at her. “The only reason I know my name is because I remembered her saying it.”

“Do you remember anything else about her?”

“We…have the same hair color?” she offered quietly. “But I can’t remember what her name was…or what she looked like.”

Lissa nodded solemnly. “Chrom and I were too young to remember much of our parents, too.” And then it was as if she suddenly realized who she was talking to and that Robin’s lack of memory was due to more than just being young. “Oh! But I’m sorry, Robin, I didn’t mean to—”

Robin stopped Lissa’s apology with a shake of her head. “It’s funny… As far as I know, today is the first day I have ever existed,” she confessed. The soft squeeze of her hand drew he gaze over to Lissa.

“At least it wasn’t a horrible first day,” Lissa said with a bright smile. “You met Chrom, Frederick, and me; helped to save a village, _and_ joined the Shepherds. Things could have been worse. You could still be in that field.”

Robin forced a smile at Lissa’s attempt. “Y-yeah. I suppose you’re right.”

Lissa’s own smile faltered a moment before she noticed that Chrom and Frederick were started to head back towards them. With renewed peppiness, Lissa bounced up from her seat and wheeled on Robin playfully. “Think you can stand now or are you going to fall into my brother’s arms again?” she asked with a wink.

Cheeks burning, Robin scrambled for an answer. “No, no—I mean yes. Yes to being able to stand. No, to falling—”

Laughter interrupted her, however. “I was just teasing you, Robin. No need to get all flustered.”

“Right,” she sighed as the younger spun away from her.

Robin stood slowly, taking the time to wipe away the dust and dirt that had settled on her coat before following Lissa to join Frederick and Chrom. As she approached, she did all that she could to wipe the melancholy of her heart and mind from her features as she looked to these people that were leading her to a future of unknown possibilities.

Many people would consider her opportunity as a chance at starting anew, having a clean slate, to begin with—without previous experiences forcing them to choose a direction based upon them—to be a blessing. But Robin’s aching heart at all the things that were missing from her—friends, family, home, her entire way of life—she couldn’t help but think it was a curse.


	2. Shepherds of Unwelcome Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her name was Robin. She was the new tactician for the Shepherds of Ylisse.
> 
> And Chrom and Lissa were missing.

The fire at the center of their small campsite was slowly losing ferocity as the flames ate through the last of the wood that had been gathered for it earlier. The sporadic crackling and snapping of wood that had lulled Frederick and Lissa into a sound sleep began to dissipate, leaving Robin with nothing other than the sound of occasional crickets and her own thoughts.

She sat cross-legged, arms folded neatly in her lap, and coat wrapped tightly around her to keep her warm since the fire was no longer providing heat as well as it had been. With eyes unfocused yet locked onto the dwindling flames that flickered in defiance at their eventual demise, Robin was replaying everything that had happened since she woke up.

One memory. Not even a full memory. It was just enough for her to know her name, know she had a mother, and somehow know that she wore the same coat as her mother. It was just enough for her to know that today truly wasn’t the first day of her life, but was it the first day she had ever woken up with no memory? A simple enough question that required a one syllable word answer, yet being unable to know the answer was enough to keep Robin awake.

“Having trouble falling asleep, Robin?” came a gentle voice, rousing her abruptly from her thoughts.

Robin’s eyes quickly shot to the source of the voice, finding Chrom watching her with a softened gaze. “Apologies, Chrom,” she offered quietly, averting her gaze. “I didn’t realize you were still awake.”

“No need to apologize, though you still haven’t answered my question.” Chrom’s voice seemed to carry on its natural friendly tone, but Robin thought she heard something else in his voice.

“I—yes…” she admitted with some difficulty.

Chrom frowned at her slightly. “You have nothing to fear from us, Robin. You’re a Shepherd now, we won’t hurt you—”

She silenced him with a shake of her head. “No. It’s not that. I guess it’s just that I have a lot on my mind.”

“Anything I can help you with?” Soft blue eyes were waiting for her when Robin looked back up to find Chrom watching her with careful regard. His words were calming, and his desire to help her seemed genuine enough. But Robin couldn’t help but blush under his watchful gaze.

“No…it’s nothing like that. You’ll probably think it’s foolish…” Robin said, rubbing her arms nervously out of her own self-consciousness.

“You have nothing to fear from me, Robin,” Chrom said earnestly, “least of all judgement.”

“Alright,” Robin sighed, trying to build some confidence. “When I woke up today, it was with no memory. All I have is what I’ve learned from you or just know instinctively…and I don’t know if it’ll happen again.”

Chrom nodded somberly in realization. “You’re afraid that if you fall asleep, you’ll wake up tomorrow with no memory again.”

“Yeah. Pretty foolish, isn’t it?” she laughed nervously.

“I don’t think so,” Chrom answered without hesitation. “I can’t image what it’s like to wake up with nothing. It must be terrifying…” He hesitated a moment, his eyes reflecting the sympathy he felt in his heart towards Robin’s predicament. “But… your name is Robin. You are skilled with a blade and magic. You have a mind for tactics which helped you save a village with Frederick, Lissa, and myself; _and_ you agreed to join the Shepherds if it is something you would still want.” Chrom offered her a smile. “And if you wake up tomorrow with no memory, I would be happy to remind you.”

Robin looked at him with a mixture of shock and gratitude at such genuine kindness. “Th-thank you, Chrom.”

“Of course,” he said easily. “Now, you should try and get some rest. We still have a ways to go before we reach the capital.” Chrom gave her a reassuring smile. “I’ll be here for you in the morning, should you need me.”

Her cheeks burning from Chrom’s words, Robin gave him a quick nod. “Thank you.”

His smile grew faintly. “No need to thank me. Its what friends are for.”

“O-of course,” Robin stumbled quietly, receding from the fire slightly before turning to the side gingerly, resting her head on her arm as she closed her eyes. From behind her, she could hear soft shuffling from Chrom as he must have followed suit with trying to fall asleep.

As she closed her eyes, Robin devised a mantra that she repeated over and over to herself. _My name is Robin. I can use a sword and magic. I’m good with tactics. Their names are Chrom, Lissa, and Frederick. I am a Shepherd now. We’re traveling to Ylisstol after saving a village from Plegian Bandits. Ylisstol is the capital of Ylisse. Their ruler is the Exalt, Emmeryn—_ and as her thoughts ebbed into nothingness, sleep finally overtook her.

* * *

 

_“This is not your-your fault. Promise me...you’ll escape from this place. Please…go…”_

A loud explosion shattered the veil of restless sleep that had kept her, launching her into the waking world. With a heart skipping in panic. Adrenaline began to surge in her veins as she hastily dragged herself to her feet, her limbs burning with soreness.

Her name was Robin. She was the new tactician for the Shepherds of Ylisse.

And Chrom and Lissa were missing.

On her left, Frederick seemed horrified as he came to the same realization that his charges were missing. A scream coming from the newly ablaze trees sent Robin and Frederick into action, though. Robin scrambled for her sword resting on a nearby stump before charging after Frederick into the flames. Before they could make it very far, however, Frederick’s horse bleated in fear as they were about to rush by it; and he spared it only a moment to draw his sword and sever its ties, allowing the beast to flee from a terrible fate it would have been doomed to if it remained tied to the tree.

As they ran, searching for Chrom and Lissa, Robin became distinctly aware of the intense burning that was radiating from her right hand. The edges of the violent purple brand sending waves pain through her arm. It was becoming increasingly difficult for her to maintain a grip on her sword, but from the sounds coming from in front of her, the ringing of metal blades clashing together, Robin knew the relinquishing her sword was not an option.

Tearing through the underbrush of the forest around them without care of the branches and thorns that tore at them as they went by, they found that the sounds of battle were growing louder as they ran onwards. Both knight and tactician carried the same hope that they would make it to Chrom and Lissa in time before either the flames or the source could do either harm, Frederick’s wary nature and mistrust of Robin left behind as they worked towards a common goal.

Suddenly the pair found themselves no longer in the heavily overgrown forest and instead in a small clearing, spotting their targets just off to their left. But what lay beyond their comrades was enough to squeeze Robin’s heart to a near standstill with icy talons.

Creatures clad in armor that appeared to melt into the shadows cast by the surrounding flames advanced towards them. Their movements were jarring and unnatural, jerking awkwardly with each motion as if they weren’t quite in control of their own bodies. Black and purple smoke oozed from them in sickening puffs as if their mere existence caused them to burn from the inside out. It would certainly account for the charred discoloration of their skin.

From where they stood, Robin could make out the frames of Chrom and another figure struggling to take out the first of the creatures that had charged them. Working in tandem to kill the unknown enemies that swung at them with chaotic, unplanned attacks, they succeeded in bringing down the last of those that had reached them.

“Milord! Milady! Are you hurt?” Frederick called to them as he and Robin ran to make it to their side before the next wave of monsters lingering in the tree line charged. Upon their approach, however, the other figure that had been helping Chrom was nowhere to be seen.

 “Frederick, take Lissa and get out of here!” Chrom ordered. He had taken up a defensive stance, blade gleaming in the firelight as he refused to take his eyes from the enemies that skulked forward with shambling steps.

“What?! No!” Lissa cried. “I’m not leaving you here!”

“Now, Frederick!” Chrom commanded forcefully. “There is an old fort to the north. Stay there until the danger’s passed.”

“And what about you?!” Lissa shouted, desperation and fear causing her voice to waver.

“I’ll make sure they don’t follow you,” Chrom answered resolutely.

“But—”

“Go, Lissa,” Robin interrupted her. “I’ll stay here make sure he doesn’t do anything reckless.”

“But—”

“Come, milady,” Frederick said, seizing her by the arm. “We must retreat at once, as your brother commands. Trust that he can survive this battle.”

“Chrom…” Lissa said waywardly as her last protest died on her lips before she finally allowed herself to be led away by Frederick.

As Frederick and Lissa disappeared into the trees, fleeing the battlefield, Robin took her place at Chrom’s side. She reached for the tome secured to her belt with her left hand, flipping instantly to a page marked by repeated use, while wielding her sword in her right. As she readied herself for battle, she prayed that Chrom couldn't see how badly her hands were shaking. 

“Are such horrific creatures commonplace in these lands?” Robin asked, hoping that her voice didn’t betray her uncertainty or fears.

“They’re not from Ylisse, I promise you that.”

The confidence that Chrom held as he spoke and faced down the enemies that struggled to reach them was something that Robin could only hope to aspire to. Facing down these monsters, the only thing that kept her from being frozen to the spot was Chrom. She had to stay confident for him. She had to fight for him. After all, she told Lissa she would.

“Stay close to me, Robin,” Chrom continued, giving her a sideways glance. “These things are tough to kill and seem to have a knack for not staying dead.”

Robin caught his gaze before nodding in understanding. “On your signal, Chrom.”

With only a slight hesitation beforehand, Chrom began his assault on the creatures that had risen from the shadows, charging at the nearest thing that resembled a soldier wielding an ax. Robin trailed close behind, lunging forward to land her own attacks in the aftermath of Chrom’s.

Occasionally, they would find themselves brushing against each other. As Chrom withdrew from his enemy after landing a blow, Robin would surge forward to keep the enemy preoccupied, bumping shoulders with Chrom as they were slightly out of sync. It wasn’t enough to affect their lethality, but it was enough for them to realize they were far from a cohesive unit. It wasn’t seamless cooperative combat, but it was an effective pair up.

As they fought on, Robin became more accustomed to flipping between wielding her sword and utilizing her magic. When Chrom charged a nearby creature wielding a short-ranged weapon, Robin would turn to one of the many pages marked with symbols for specific elements in certain forms, pulling from the energy from within her and forcing it towards the enemies that got too close to Chrom while he was engaged with another unit. It was draining on her, but she forced herself to continue on, refusing to leave Chrom’s side.

After a momentary respite long enough to catch their breaths, Robin took the lead for offensive attacks in order to give Chrom a slight respite. With heart pounding in her throat from the strain of battle and the hitching sensation of fear that would have kept her rooted to the spot; Robin launched herself at the enemies that came before her, her determination to stop these creatures here before they could harm any others spurring her forward. It was only as she was landing a disarming blow that her renewed fervor worked against her.

The strength Robin placed behind her blow was just enough to amplify the critical flaw in her bronze sword that had been getting worse with extended use. As she struck at the monstrous swordsman’s blade, her sword shattered, sending jarring pain up her arm as the pieces of bronze clattered uselessly on the ground.

Robin let out a yelp in surprise at the demise of her blade and threw herself backward carelessly in an attempt to avoid the creatures next strike. Before it could recover from its miss and rush her again, Robin, with a snap of her fingers, summoned flames that leapt up hungrily from the monster’s feet. Encased in the blaze, the creature road inhumanly before it was reduced to ash.

“You alright?” Chrom asked as he pulled back to her side once more, a critical eye scanning for wounds.

“Down a sword,” Robin answered him breathlessly. “But I still have my magic.”

Chrom nodded quickly. “Don’t overdo it. I’d hate to have to carry you out of here,” he teased.

“I’m supposed to keep you from being reckless, not the other way around,” she added with a smirk.

“Just…be careful, Robin.”

The sincerity that gave his voice such a somber tone, a clear antithesis to the battle raging around them, caused Robin to hesitate a moment before she followed behind Chrom.

Magic being her only weapon, Robin started to feel the drain on her energy as the amount of enemies had finally been reduced to a number that could be counted on one hand. Stepping back from Chrom’s side for a moment to regain her breath, astounded by the amount of stamina Chrom had to continue on persistently, her judgement lapsed just enough to lose focus on her surroundings.

One of the creatures with sickeningly long claws materialized from the ground suddenly, grabbing ahold of Robin’s legs and ripping them from underneath her, sending her crashing to the ground on her back. The fall caused her to drop her tome, and she was forced to stare at this blighted monster. It reeled back, and Robin didn’t even have a moment to consider using her magic in a risky quick-cast.

Raising her arm in a meager defense, the pain she felt burning from the brand on her hand was quickly replaced by the stabbing pain as the creature’s claws tore through her arm, flesh parting easily.

Unconsciously, Robin let out a sharp scream at the pain that raced through her senses, scorching her nerves far better than any fire could as she quickly clutched her arm to her chest and struggled to back away from the creature that continued with its advance.

Her feet struggling to find purchase on the dirt and loose stone of the clearing, Robin looked desperately for Chrom, praying that he might be able to come to her aid once more.

It was not Chrom, however, that came to Robin’s aid; but another blue-haired swordsman wielding what seemed to be the same blade. _The figure from before_ , Robin recognized, as the masked man quickly cut down the adversary that had wounded her.

“Can you stand?” The masked man asked her, his voice and accent sounding forced and distorted to her ears.

Before she could discover the answer, however, a voice calling from behind them interrupted her. “Captain Chrom! Wait! I’m coming!” shouted a female cavalier in crimson armor from atop her mount.

Regaining her focus, Robin looked for the masked man only to find herself alone for the briefest of moments before Chrom was kneeling before her, dirt and grime from the battle clinging to his face but failing to obscure the concern and fear that flickered behind his blue eyes and was written on his face.

With one hand gripping her shoulder to ensure she remained upright, Chrom turned to the cavalier and archer that arrived. “Sully!” he shouted, pointing to the remaining few creatures as instruction before he turned back to Robin. “Robin, can you stand?” he asked breathlessly.

“Yes,” she answered without hesitation, although she had no way of knowing if it was the truth.

Whether or not Chrom believed her answer, he quickly helped her to her feet, the resulting movement causing her to wince at the jostling of her arm that was inevitable. Thankfully, the pain wasn’t enough for to cause her to miss the creature that drew its bow; and she shoved Chrom away from her with her good arm, sparing them both from the arrow.

Red sigils glowed ominously around her as she quickly cast her magic at the archer, lighting the fiend ablaze before it had time to knock another arrow and draw.

Chrom turned to her with a raised eyebrow. “You seem to be getting better at that,” he commented, clearly impressed.

“Yeah, trial by fire, I guess,” she sighed wearily, though a small smile tugged at her lips.

“Seems that way,” Chrom chuckled.

His concern laden eyes left Robin a moment to survey their surroundings as he sheathed his weapon in the mailable ground so that it was easier to retrieve at a moment’s notice should he have need of it. Off in the distance, they heard a celebratory shout that Robin assumed was from the woman Chrom had called Sully.

“Sounds like that’s the last of them,” he said, relief evident in his voice. The relief evaporated though when he finally registered the way Robin had her arm pinned to her chest and the blood that seeped out of the tears in her sleeve. “Robin, your arm.”

“It’s nothing,” Robin said hastily. “Just a few scrapes.”

“That looks like more than nothing.” Chrom glanced about to make sure they were truly clear of enemies, before reaching out to her. “Here, let me see.”

Although she was loath to admit that her own carelessness had resulted in her injury, she had a feeling that Chrom wouldn’t allow her to refuse. Instead, she carefully extended her arm, tensing up at the inevitable pain from his well-meaning probing of the wound.

The ragged edges of Robin’s coat clung to the torn edges of her flesh, causing Chrom to wince in sympathy as he did his best to carefully roll her sleeve out of the way. “I’m sorry,” he muttered softly when he saw her cringing in pain out of the corner of his eye.

“These are worse than a few scrapes,” he said, assessing the three claw marks that perforated Robin’s arm. “And they’re too deep to stop bleeding on their own.” With full sincerity, he met Robin’s soft brown eyes that had been watching him. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to cut it off,” although he couldn’t stop his lips from twitching into a barely concealed smile.

Robin would have snatched her arm back were it not for the firm yet tender grip Chrom maintained. “Do you always make jokes after fighting monsters, or is it just the adrenaline talking?”

“It may be a little bit of both,” he laughed softly. “But we do need something to stop the bleeding,” Chrom added, the mirth draining from his voice steadily.

“You can use this,” came a masked voice, startling both of them.

It was the man that had aided Chrom before Robin arrived and had saved her from the creature. He was dressed in deep blue, his sword sheathed at his side and mask secured over his features. In his hands was a lengthy shred of cloth that matched the color of his armor, which Chrom accepted without hesitation.

“Thank you,” Chrom said graciously as he began to tightly bind Robin’s arm enough to draw out a frustrating amount of pain from the wound while also maintaining enough pressure to stem the flow of blood seeping out of it.

“It seems we both owe you a great debt,” Robin added. “Thank you.”

“Yes, you saved my sister’s life,” Chrom agreed, looking up briefly from what he was doing. “My name is Chrom, and this is Robin. Might we ask yours?”

There was a slight hesitation in his veiled response. “You may call me Marth.”

The name was one that Robin did not recognize, though it sounded vaguely familiar. Chrom however, perked up at it. “Marth? After the heroic king of old?” he did not get an immediate response. “You certainly fight like a hero. Where did you learn your way with a sword?”

“I’m not here to talk about me,” Marth said, stopping Chrom before he could ask any more questions. “This world teeters on the brink of a horrible calamity. What you saw tonight was but a prelude.” He paused a moment. “I came you to warn you of what fate has in store, my job here is done.”

As the masked figure turned and began to walk away from them, Robin could sense that Chrom wanted nothing more than to chance after him and get answers out of the mysterious man; however, he abandoned that desire and continued to bind her wound. A fact which did nothing to alleviate the guilt that she felt from having him help her in the first place.

“Not one for much conversation, is he?” Robin asked playfully, trying to use her lightheartedness to hide her grimace.

Chrom hummed in amusement. “His skills clearly lie elsewhere.” With a final flourish, Chrom secured the makeshift bandage with a tight knot. “Lissa will have to take a look at this when we make back to her. But thanks to you, we carried the night.” he added with a smile before waving to Sully and the archer that were beginning to approach them.

And for some reason, Robin felt like she had heard him say that before.

* * *

 

Ylisse was a stark contrast from the previous darkness they had been exposed to. Light flooded the city, drowning the busy streets in warmth, banishing all shadows. Even the palace that towered at Ylisse’s center failed to bring any sense of foreboding despite what should have been a looming presence.

And the people. Robin had never seen so many people in one place before. It was amazing that anyone was able to get anywhere with how crowded the streets were; and yet, people filtered through each other with ease, stopping at shops and stalls that added to the crowdedness or greeting friends and family that they came across.

Robin looked at it all with a pleasant mixture of emotions. Awe at the beauty and size of Ylisse, with its lightly colored brick buildings that towered above them at extraordinary heights and clustered together near the roads with merchants and homeowners leaning out through windows and doorways as they completed the days. And she felt an overwhelming sense of wonder at all the different sights, conversations, and smells that were around her.

“Well, what do you think?” Chrom asked with a gentle smile after giving her some time to absorb it all.

“I’ve never seen so many people in one place before,” she said in awestricken fascination.

Frederick, however, didn’t have any patience for her child-like wonder. “It appears the capital was spared the chaos we encountered, thank the gods,” he interrupted, receiving a glare from Chrom. “I see no evidence of the great quake. It must have been limited to the forest.”

“Well, that’s a relief!” Lissa said with a smile. “Robin wouldn’t have gotten to see how pretty Ylisstol could be otherwise.”

It was then that Robin realized how foolish she must look, behaving more like a child in awe of a new toy brought before them rather than the tactician she had been asked to be. Quickly, she buried her smile behind a blush and gaze cast downwards at the others’ scrutiny.

A unanimous murmuring and excited commotion drew all of their attention, however. “Look!” several people shouted in off-kilter unison. “It’s the Exalt!” laughter and cheering accompanied as the people suddenly parted to the sides of the road. “The Exalt has come to see us!”  Soon, Chrom, Frederick, Lissa, and Robin found themselves being swept by the tides of people to the side.

From in between the people in front her, Robin could just make out the figure of an elegant woman with golden hair framed by a simple crown that formed a halo that silhouetted her flowing curls. This woman was making her way through the crowds with a peaceful bearing, as she was escorted by several knights and riders atop pegasi. Despite her grim accompaniment, however, the woman wore a gentle yet beautiful smile as she waved to the people in the crowd as she passed.

“The Exalt is your ruler, yes?’ Robin asked, raising her voice to be heard over the cheers for the Exalt.

“Yes,” said Frederick, surprising her with an answer. “Her name is Lady Emmeryn.”

 _Emmeryn_ , Robin repeated, committing the name to her new memory. “Is it safe for her to walk among us like this?” she asked out of general curiosity and concern.

“The Exalt is a symbol of peace—Ylisse’s most prized quality,” the great knight explained from behind her. “Long ago, at the dawn of our age, the fell dragon tried to destroy the world…” However, Frederick’s words drifted away from her as Robin watched the Exalt pass by her.

As she passed, Robin noticed that the Exalt bore on her forehead a strange marking, almost like a tattoo. And for some reason, it seemed familiar to her; and not simply because it was the same as the one Chrom brandished on his shoulder. The sense of peace she felt gazing upon the woman betrayed her to a moment of weakness and lost focus, and the noise of the crowd and those that she accompanied drowned out, leaving her to nothing but silent blackness.

 _“Robin…”_ it hissed at her, sending chills down her spine. _“Robin…_ ” it called to her, the voice foreign and inhuman, yet intoxicating in a mysterious way. “ _Robin!_ ” it screamed at her begging to be heard.

“Robin?” Chrom asked, drawing her back into the light of day.

“S-sorry,” Robin stammered, self-conscious of the fact that she hadn’t paid attention to a word Frederick had said beyond something about a fell dragon. “So many people…it’s a little overwhelming. I guess, I just got caught up in it for a second there.”

The blue-haired gentlemen frowned at her slightly, as if sensing the lie in Robin’s half-truth, but he didn’t press further. “To answer your question, it may be dangerous for her to be out here, but with Plegia poking at our border, the people need her.” A fond smile spread across his face, “She’s a calming presence when some might otherwise call for war.”

Robin looked back at the precession that had all but past where they stood, Lady Emmeryn no longer visible from between the crowd and guards that swarmed her. “Then the Ylissean people are indeed lucky to have her,” she mused thoughtfully.

“She’s also the best big sister anyone could ask for!” Lissa exclaimed, flashing her a cheeky grin.

“Yes, I imagine she…” and then Lissa’s statement hit her. “Wait, what? She’s your… But wouldn’t that make you and Chrom…” Robin let her words trail off, sentence unfinished in abject horror.

“The prince and princess of the realm, yes,” Frederick said bluntly, confirming her fears. “You remember Chrom’s name and not this?”

Her eyes darted quickly between Chrom and Lissa, “N-no, I…” Finally, embarrassment overtook her as Robin blushed furiously, quickly looking down in shame. “F-forgive me. I didn’t know…”

“Don’t worry, Robin,” Lissa giggled playfully. “Chrom and I have never cared for formalities or titles.”

“Otherwise your behavior would be treasonous,” Frederick cut in, drawing out a flinch from Robin.

“Frederick!” Lissa growled, smacking him on the arm. “Can’t you at least try to be nice?”

“Niceties are like trust, milady,” he said, fixing Robin with a cold glare. “They are earned.”

“That’s quite enough, Frederick,” Chrom said sternly, saving Robin from further vindication.

“Apologies, milord. I meant no disrespect.”

“It is not me you should apologize to,” Chrom sighed, his eyes falling on Robin for the briefest of moments before turning back towards where his older sister walked. “It looks like Emm is returning to the palace. Would you like to meet her?” Chrom asked.

Words failed her as she struggled to determine what the appropriate response should be. Was she even worthy to meet someone as important as the Exalt of Ylisse? Was she even worthy to have had traveled with a prince and princess as she had been?

“Of course, she wants to meet her!” Lissa exclaimed, looping her arm through Robins enthusiastically. “I’m sure Emm would _love_ you, Robin.”

“I…um…” Robin stammered, tensing visibly before finally caving to the younger’s enthusiasm. “Ok…?”

“Come on then!” Lissa said, her excitement and cheeriness causing her to nearly rip Robin’s shoulder right out of its socket as she all but danced towards the palace.

Chrom couldn’t help but chuckle fondly at the sight as his little sister all but dragged Robin alongside her. “It looks like Lissa is becoming quite fond of her,” he mused thoughtfully to the gentle knight that stood beside him.

“All the more reason I will be watching more closely,” Frederick responded. “Very few suspect the friend to land the fatal blow.”

Letting out a loud sigh, Chrom made his way towards the palace at a much more leisurely pace, Frederick keeping in stride beside him. “Must you be so hard on her, Frederick?” he asked, maintaining a neutral tone from the years of practice achieved with etiquette lessons. “She has no memory, and I can't imagine what it's like to have someone treat you so coldly without understanding why.”

“She claims to have no memory,” Frederick was quick to correct him.

“And how do you propose she prove her lack of memory?” Chrom snapped, annoyance getting the better of him momentarily.

“I do not know, milord,” the knight admitted. “All I know is that her coat looks quite Plegian. And that none in Ylisse have white hair as she does.”

Chrom frowned. Frederick wasn’t saying anything that was new to him. He had recognized her as a non-native to Ylisse the moment he saw her, and the brand on her hand, which Robin had worked expertly to conceal since she woke up, was quite telling of that as well. However, Chrom couldn’t also forget how terrified she looked the previous night before the strange creatures attacked.

Robin had been cowering before the fire, wrapped up on herself as she stared with a terrified and forlorn look into the fire. Her eyes had been darting and flickering with each flame that leapt up from the embers. His heart had ached at the sight. He couldn’t begin to understand how she must felt with no memory and being thrust into the middle of a near-war so suddenly. And the guilt of subjugating her to it further by asking her to join the Shepherds ate away at him.

“She was too afraid of forgetting all her memories again to fall asleep last night,” Chrom said in a lowered tone, his voice thick with sympathy. “That kind of fear… It’s not something you can fake, Frederick.”

“I heard the exchange you had with her, milord,” Frederick stated.

“You may have heard it,” Chrom said. “But you didn’t see it…she was terrified.” He shook his head. “I am not asking you to trust her, Frederick, but that you trust me. Trust me when I tell you that her story is the truth.”

The great knight hesitated a moment before offering a response. “Very well, milord… I suppose that I could perhaps treat her with less contempt than I have been thus far.”

“Thank you, Frederick,” Chrom sighed. It may not have been the reversal in opinion he had hoped for, but it was a start in the right direction.


	3. At Last, a Moment of Peaceful Unrest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A woman with no memory shouldn't be forced to know only battle and death with the promise of nothing more in the future. No matter how much the Shepherds could use her tactical genius, she didn't deserve to be subjugated to such bloodshed after having just woken up.

The nightly chill bit fiercely at Chrom’s exposed skin as he stood silently on the rampart, the flickering firelight from the torches offering no protection from the midnight wind. Beneath him, Ylisstol slept with only the occasional flickering of candles dimly illuminating windows being the all solitary remainder of the life that had bloomed in the afternoon sun upon their arrival. Chrom would have easily joined the rest of those who had retreated into slumber were it not for the fact that his mind would not still.

Even after such grave discussion held with the council and his sister on the potential of war with Plegia, his thoughts would always return to the woman with white hair and Plegian garb he had found in a field just a day earlier. This mystery whose memory was as blank as the pages of the book he carried with him, yet her knowledge in tactics was extensive, far beyond his own ken. She was becoming a fascination to him, this stranger who had awoken in his life so suddenly and had stood by his side for two battles now without any provocation to do so.

Robin was an unknown, and it was because of this that he understood Frederick’s overly cold disposition towards her even if he wished it weren’t so. There was no way that she was Ylissean, her appearance suggested as much. And she certainly didn’t have the build or bearing of a Feroxi. Perhaps she was Valmese, though as both he and Frederick suspected, Plegia was most likely where she hailed from even if she had no memory of such heritage. Could she be punished for her nationality that she couldn’t remember though?

And that brand he had seen on her hand. It was reminiscent of the one those of House Ylisse carried, though its vibrant coloration and the symbol itself was something he didn’t recognize as belonging to any noble house, foreign or otherwise. Nor did any houses outside his own have a brand that appeared on its members as the mark of Naga’s blessing did. Nothing in any history texts he had ever read mentioned a brand of power outside of those held by Exalted blood. It was confounding, but it was something he had a mind of keeping to himself, believing it to be something they could deal with in the future if it ever presented itself to be an issue.

_If she remains with the Shepherds_ , he thought grimly. With all that was happening, it felt wrong to have offered the position as tactician in the first place. A woman with no memory shouldn’t be forced to know only battle and death with the promise of nothing more in her future. No matter how much the Shepherds could use her tactical genius, she didn’t deserve to be subjugated to such bloodshed after having just woken up. If it were up to him, Robin would stay here in Ylisse, where she could live with such wonder and awe as he had seen her with upon first entering the city. And it was the reason why he had started to make his way towards the room she had been assigned to let her know that she didn’t have to retain her new role in the Shepherds if she didn’t want to now that she knew more about this foreign world and the troubles between its nations. The realization of how late it truly was, had stopped him in the spot he was on the ramparts now, gazing across the darkened capitol.

Chrom sighed in frustration. He was supposed to be determining a better course of action for Ylisse with Plegia hounding their borders and not dwelling on Robin, though if he were being honest with himself, thoughts of her were much more calming than remembering what was discussed with the council and his sister behind closed doors despite the guilt he felt towards Robin. The anger he felt at the council for sitting on its hands—denying that Plegia had any desire for war since they had no desire for war—began to boil in his blood once more; and as much as he loved his sister, he couldn’t help but feel annoyed at her for clinging to peace so stubbornly, almost painfully so. Couldn’t any of them see the signs of war that were plainly written?

_If none of them are interested in accepting the possibility of war, then it falls to me to prepare for it_ , Chrom decided, resigning himself to many sleepless nights in the future as he attempted to plan for the future of Ylisse and accepting the burden of an entire nation to be rested upon his shoulders. _If only I could—_

“Having trouble falling asleep, Chrom?” A silky voice asked, startling him from his warring thoughts.

At Robin’s light-footed approach, Chrom couldn’t help but smile at her. “Strange…I feel like I’ve heard that question before,” he teased gently.

“It’s a popular question,” Robin said, answering his teasing with a playfulness of her own, though she quickly averted her gaze from his. Even though the torches weren’t very reliable for their light, Chrom could make out the faint blush of Robin’s cheeks. “Though it seems it’s a question very few people want to answer.”

“Speaking from experience?” Chrom asked her, knowing full well the answer.

“Yes,” she answered with confidence he only saw in glimpses on the battlefield. “And this is me extending you the same courtesy you so kindly offered me yesterday.” Robin gave him a small smile. “And you still haven’t answered my question.”

Chrom chuckled softly at his own words being turned against him so beautifully. “Not to continue our trend of repeating each other, but I suppose I have a lot on my mind.”

Robin stepped closer to him, her smile growing mischievous, though it didn’t lose its warmth. “Intentionally continuing our trend, is it anything I can help you with?”

Chrom looked upon this wonderfully kind woman with a melancholy mixture of fondness at her lighthearted compassion and sorrow for all that he was going to put her through undeservedly if she stayed with the Shepherds.

“It is not your burden to bear.”

Her smile faded and was replaced by a slight frown. “Am I not to be your tactician?”

Unable to hold her gaze, Chrom cast his eyes past the palace walls and onto the sleeping houses the slumbering city below. “I asked you to be our tactician when you didn’t know enough to make a proper decision,” he hung his head lightly. “Ylisse and Plegia are on the brink of war, though the council and my sister try to ignore it and cling to peace. You would be dragged into battle after battle, forced to fight for a nation you may not even belong to.” He turned to her, searching for an answer before he even asked the question. “Is that something you truly want?”

Without hesitation, “I stand by my decision, Chrom. If you still want me by your side.”

“O-of course, Robin,” Chrom stammered. “I just—”

“Feel guilty,” Robin finished for him. “You feel like you are using me, and that you will be forcing me into further battle. Into a war.”

“I—yes,” he admitted with a slight shake of his head. He had seen her amazing ability with perception on the battlefield before, he shouldn’t have been surprised that she would be able to use it against him as well.

Robin shook her head lightly, before offering him a well-meaning smile. “Don’t,” she said simply. “I chose to be your tactician, and I won’t back down simply because I might actually have to live up to the title.” Robin reached out to Chrom cautiously with her hand, slender fingers resting gently on his elbow to draw his gaze back to her. “So, this is me asking you to not feel guilty, and if that isn’t enough, then this is me forgiving you if that’s what you need.”

Chrom was left speechless, words struggling to form in his mouth as Robin slowly pulled her hand away from him, her kind smile remaining as she waited for him to respond. “Robin…I…” he faltered. “I hope that I am deserving of your forgiveness.”

Her smile brightened. “Why wouldn’t you be? You’ve saved me twice now, haven’t you?” When she saw his frown, she elaborated. “Once from that field and then again from my own fear.”

“And now I may be forcing you into a war,” Chrom said grimly.

“Yes…” she agreed quietly, that wonderful smile of hers fading slowly. “But what else am I to do? You, Lissa, and Frederick—and now the Exalt and the other Shepherds…you’re all that I know.” Robin turned her thoughtful attention to the city below them. “And I have this skill with tactics and fighting that I don’t fully understand…but what good would it do to keep that to myself?” After a moment to let the question evaporate into the night sky, “No. I think it’s better if it is used for a greater cause rather than kept to myself. And you seem like a good man, so it—I’ll use it to serve you and your Exalt’s ideals if that is your wish.”

Chrom watched her in awe. The timid woman that shied away from him and Frederick, that had to be goaded into action by Lissa’s enthusiasm, was suddenly speaking with such incredible conviction. His blank stare was soon replaced by the small smile that spread on his lips at her sudden radiant confidence.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you speak so confidently,” he teased her gently.

And much to his amusement, Robin’s demeanor instantly changed to the one he was growing to recognize. “Oh, I-um…I didn’t mean to get so serious there,” she stammered, a blush painting her cheeks beautifully once more. “Sorry…”

Chrom shook his head. “Don’t be. I just hope that my sister’s ideals are something that you can come to believe in, that they are deserving of your dedication.”

“I have yet to see anything to say otherwise,” she replied thoughtfully, turning her attention once more to the slumbering city below them, though he didn’t know if it was to hide her blush or end the conversation that had suddenly come to a halt.

Chrom merely nodded, aware that she was watching him from the corners of her eyes, yet he was unable to form any more words to give her to keep away the silence. A restless peace passed over them as they stood side by side on the stone rampart, both tolerating the biting wind with only the crackle of the torches and the slight shuffle of patrolling guards in full armor being the only sound that accompanied them.

It came as a shock that she would be so satisfied and convicted in her answer despite all that she knew, however limited it might be from her amnesia. Yet she had vowed to stay at his side. He could only hope that whatever came next didn’t change her into something that she didn’t want to be—that _he_ didn’t change her into something other than the inquisitive yet terribly self-conscious woman he met only yesterday. A fact alone that was something that still floored him at times.

 “I can see why you came out here to think,” Robin mused thoughtfully, melodic voice breaking the quietness that had settled over them. “It’s quite peaceful despite the wind.”

Chrom hummed in agreement. “It’s easier to forget the burdens of an entire nation out here. But what about you, Robin? Are you still having the same troubles with sleep.”

“No, nothing like that. I lost track of time reading and could see you from my window,” she answered, not bothering to gesture towards the garrison that was to their backs. “I thought you might want some company.”

“Reading anything interesting?”

“N-no, not really…” but something in the way Chrom was looking at her must have told her that he wasn’t about to let her leave her answer at that. “Just a book on the general history of the four nations,” she admitted sheepishly. “Miriel lent it to me, and I thought that it was a good place to start…”

A soft hum of amusement and understanding escaped him before he remembered why he had wanted to see her earlier. “Speaking of books…” Chrom added, “I have something I wanted to give you.”

“You…do…?” Robin asked, and Chrom felt a stab at his own heart at the confusion she wore. “I’ve…never received a gift before, a-at least not that I remember,” she stammered.

“This will be the first of many then,” Chrom said confidently before realizing what he said. “O-of many, um, memories, I mean. Although you might receive more gifts, maybe. I’m not— I didn’t mean—” Chrom quickly cut off his rambling by abruptly handing her the book he had been holding on to. “Here.”

Chrom watched her carefully, terrified that he might have made a wrong decision in his choice, but the care Robin took in handling the simple book was telling of how much receiving a gift, her first gift, meant to her. As she gently ran her hands over the leather cover the pages were bound in, softly running her fingertips over the House of Ylisse’s symbol on the cover, Chrom’s anxiety peaked, and he couldn’t keep himself silent.

“I tried to find one without the Brand on it,” Chrom said nervously. “But it was the only one I could find on such short notice and it—”

“It’s empty,” Robin said upon opening it, frowning slightly.

“Y-yes,” Chrom added hastily. “You said you were afraid of forgetting everything again, so I thought that it might help you if you wrote it down, that way you could always go back to it if you needed to and you wouldn’t have to worry…” he had to look away quickly after his ramblings finally trailed off, embarrassment at the situation burning in his cheeks. Why was it suddenly so difficult to talk to her? It wasn’t nearly this hard earlier. “I-if you don’t like it, you don’t have to—”

“It’s wonderful,” Robin interrupted him breathlessly, a small smile gracing her lips.

“It is?” Chrom asked, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding.

Robin nodded faintly, her eyes reflecting the torchlight with damp happiness. “It’s the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me,” she said softly. “But I have no way to repay your kindness.”

“You don’t have to, Robin,” Chrom said, his own smile gentle upon his features. “I am glad you like it.”

“Thank you, Chrom,” Robin hummed. “I’ll be sure to put it to good use.”

And the smile that illuminated Robin’s features as she thumbed gingerly through the blank pages of the book, admiring the simple journal as if it were a rare object, was reward enough as far as Chrom was concerned. Nothing in all of Ylisse could compare to it, save for the smiles of his own sisters.

* * *

 

Ever since the creatures—the Risen as they had been named—had attacked them two nights ago, the brand that glared vibrantly against the pale skin of Robin’s hand had not stopped burning. That night, it had been excruciating, the way it burned at the edges of the strange symbol; and although it had dulled considerably, it still flared achingly against her skin from beneath the glove she kept it hidden underneath since arriving at Ylisstol.

It was an unsightly thing, and she had no idea what it meant. The cursed and unknown thing made her nervous, though, so she kept did her best to keep it out of sight. As far as she knew, Chrom was the only one who had seen it; and much to her relief, he had yet to say anything about it.

“Heya, Robin!” a sing-song sort of voice called to her, drawing her out of her thoughts. “Are you here to join us for training, today?”

Stahl beamed at her from his place in the courtyard outside of the Shepherds’ barracks. He was dressed in his verdant armor with a training sword gripped loosely in his hand. Beside him, Vaike had his axe slung recklessly over his shoulder, a smug smirk plastered on his face.

“Only if you don’t mind,” Robin answered bashfully. “I thought that I could get some practice in…and get to know you all better.”

“Of course, you can join us,” Stahl said.

“Yeah, ol’ Teach wouldn’t mind showing ya a few new moves,” Vaike added with an obnoxious grin. “Might not be good for the battle, though.”

Before Robin could be disgusted into silence, Sully came up and smacked Vaike on the back of the head, knocking him forward with enough force to nearly sending him face first onto the ground. “Can’t you go one day without being a disgusting pig?” she growled at him before turning towards Robin. “Don’t pay attention to _Teach_ here. He’s always a damn nuisance.”

“I see…” Robin said, avoiding even looking at him.

“And you’re welcome to join us,” Sully continued. “We could certainly use a new sparring partner. We’re getting too used to one another.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” Robin countered. _Ally’s with greater bonds that work in pairs improve each other’s strength, defense, and speed. A tactical advantage against enemies that do not work in tandem_ , she recalled expertly.

“Maybe not in battle,” Sully agreed, “but it’s hard to improve your skills against people you fight all the time.”

“Unless you train with Frederick,” Stahl corrected her.

“Yeah,” Sully chuckled fondly. “The man’s a beast.”

“Now if only I could get ya to talk about Teach so dreamily,” Vaike grinned, having recovered from his blow to the head with even less sense than before.

Sully wound up to hit Vaike again, but he quickly retreated away. “It’s decided then,” she said resolutely. “You’ll be training with Stahl today, and I’ll haze the new recruit.”

“Um…haze…?” Robin asked nervously.

“Oh, come on darlin’!” Vaike protested over her. “Why ya always makin’ Teach train with Mr. Stomach-Aches?”

“Maybe when you stop being so perverted, I’ll let you train with someone else,” Sully snapped before tossing Robin the training sword she had been using hilt first towards her.

Robin caught the sword deftly, flinching at the ache that resonated from the mark on her hand. Testing the balance on the blade hesitantly, noting the edge was dull for practice and chipped from use, Robin glanced up to see Sully approaching her with a lance.

“Alright, tactician,” she beamed, lowering herself into a defensive stance. “Let’s see if you’re as good as Chrom promised.”

“I’ll try not to disappoint…” Robin breathed, observing the grounded cavalier with keen eyes.

Sully could not have given her a worse weapon for this training session, though perhaps that was the point. Perhaps this was a test to see if her tactical acumen was up to par by placing her in a losing situation. _Swords have a tactical disadvantage against lances. Their reach is greater and it is more difficult to deflect a blow from a lance with a sword_.

It would be difficult, indeed, but Robin already knew she couldn’t match Sully strength for strength. The muscular women had years of training on her, or at least, training that she could recall. All Robin had was an instinct for tactics, and even if it didn’t get her victory, it should at least be enough to make an impression.

“On your mark, newbie.”

Robin gave the experienced woman a nod before she charged without hesitation.

_Lances are hard to maneuver in close quarters_ , Robin new as she landed the first attack, unsurprised when Sully easily managed to block it with the elongated shaft of her lance. But Robin didn’t stop in her persistence even when her first blow was unsuccessful.

Left slice, overhead strike, right cut, backhand, forehand, lunge, diagonal, horizontal thrust, cut, underhand, stab. Robin continued well beyond the point of knowing she was getting nowhere with shaking Sully out of her defensive stance or knock her lance out of the way. Yet it wasn’t until her arm started to go numb from the berating shock of her blows meeting an immovable defense that she finally hesitated in her attack.

Sword arm tingling sorely from the aftershocks of metal against wood, Robin retreated two steps back, rotating her wrist lazily in attempt to regain some feeling and successfully goading Sully to take an opportunity to lunge forwards, shifting her feet and hips enough to put her full strength into a blow that would have easily toppled Robin over, leaving her with some nasty bruising.

But Robin quickly sidestepped to the right, twisting her body sharply, making herself perpendicular to Sully, and in one strong blow, Robin brought the dulled iron edge of her blade crashing down onto the wooden shaft of the lance that she had weakened with the multiple blows she had already landed in that exact same spot.

A loud crack resonated throughout the courtyard, as the lance splintered in half. And before Sully had a moment to respond to the loss of half of her weapon, the dull edge of the training sword she had lent to Robin was raised to her throat, asking her to yield.

It hadn’t been a good victory, Robin knew, but it was the only victory she would have been able to obtain.

With a smug look on her face, Sully brushed Robin’s sword aside with the splintered half of her lance, “Looks like Chrom isn’t the only one who’s going to be breaking stuff around here,” she joked.

“It’s all I could do with the weapon you chose,” Robin said quietly, dropping the sword to her side. _Well, not all I could do_ , she knew. _It could have been dragged out with me ultimately losing…_

“Fair enough,” Sully smirked, retrieving the other half of her lance. “I’ll grab a sword and— Chrom! ‘bout time you showed your face. For a moment there I was certain I was going to have to hunt ya down for training today.”

“A terrifying thought,” the kind-hearted prince joked as he approached them, drawing a scoff and a roll of the eyes from Sully. “Could I borrow Robin for a moment?”

“She’s _your_ tactician,” Sully drawled out, offering to take Robin’s sword with a smile. “But I get her back when you’re done. We still have some training to take care of,” the ruby knight added before she retreated back across the field to where Vaike and Stahl were still locked in combat.

“You two seem to be getting along,” Chrom said once Sully had left them. “And that was an impressive display.”

“Are we?” Robin asked nervously, avoiding the compliment entirely. “I couldn’t really tell…”

“Trust me, it would be obvious if she didn’t like you,” he reassured her, allowing her deflection. “Sully’s not one to mince words, and she certainly doesn’t hold back on sharing her opinions.”

“She does seem rather…aggressive…” Robin agreed. “But…um…did you need me for something, Chrom?”

“Yes, I had something I wanted to ask you,” he answered, his charming and playful demeanor shifting to something more serious. “With more attacks from… _bandits_ , our pegasus knights are becoming more strained with their patrols.” It would have sounded as though he were picking his words carefully, Robin noted, were it not for the slight annoyance that had spit out the word _bandit_. “I’ve decided to take a small team of Shepherds and some of our soldiers to patrol the shared land border between us and Plegia.”

“Which will allow the pegasus knights to focus on the waterfront to make sure none of their ships are coming in or attacking Ylissean docks since their might and commerce relies more heavily on the sea,” Robin added knowingly. Noticing the way Chrom was watching her as he nodded in agreement, she quickly ducked her head, her cheeks burning. “I may have spent more time reading yesterday than I let on…” she added quietly.

Chrom smirked in amusement before continuing. “I was wondering if you would join us, or if you needed more time here in Ylisstol.”

“I wouldn’t be able to do my job very well if I was left behind,” Robin remarked playfully.

“I suppose not,” Chrom chuckled lightly, gazing fondly at the tactician. “Would you care to go over marching formations and plan out our route with me? Unless, of course, you’d like to continue training with Sully.”

Robin didn’t even have to think about her answer. “I’m sure I’ll have plenty of time to train with her on our way to the border,” she answered perhaps a little too quickly. There was no doubt in her mind that her next encounter with the ruby cavalier would end in a thorough trouncing with an actual test of strength and skill. “Though we should go. Now. While her back’s turned.”

“Of course,” he laughed quietly, holding out an arm to guide her. “This way, milady. We must make a hasty retreat lest we both face the wrath of Sully.”

Robin couldn’t help but glare at the playful young prince for his jest as they both quickly made their escape from the training grounds, successfully sneaking out of the courtyard before Sully was any the wiser.


End file.
